


baby, it's cold outside

by Lysippe



Series: The Worst Witch 2018 Winter Fluff-A-Thon [16]
Category: The Worst Witch (TV 2017), The Worst Witch - All Media Types
Genre: F/F, and hecate is a tease, in which pippa is entirely too mischievous
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-17
Updated: 2018-12-17
Packaged: 2019-09-21 08:01:37
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,582
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17039894
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lysippe/pseuds/Lysippe
Summary: Pippa wasn’t sure what provoked her to do it. What fit of whimsy had caused her to take temporary leave of her senses and, of all things, throw a snowball at Hecate while she was turned around. But Pentangle’s had been abandoned for the holidays, students having flown home to their families and staff having scattered to the winds for various vacations and family visits and two blissful weeks free of students and homework and staff meetings. And Pippa, never much good at entertaining herself without specific tasks and jobs to do, had found herself getting quite bored, quite quickly. So, on a lovely, if somewhat brisk, clear morning, she had set out on the three-hour flight to Cackle’s Academy for a surprise visit to Hecate, who was still in the midst of getting her students through the winter term’s exams.





	baby, it's cold outside

**Author's Note:**

> Yoooooo I forgot that this was what I wrote for snowball fight, and was like "oh yeah, I'll edit and post it at work," and long story short I've been switching tabs while I edit every time a coworker walks behind me. Anyway, Pippa is a little shit and Hecate is a tease, and enjoy because even I couldn't angst up a snowball fight.

Pippa wasn’t sure what provoked her to do it. What fit of whimsy had caused her to take temporary leave of her senses and, of all things,  _ throw a snowball  _ at Hecate while she was turned around. But Pentangle’s had been abandoned for the holidays, students having flown home to their families and staff having scattered to the winds for various vacations and family visits and two blissful weeks free of students and homework and staff meetings. And Pippa, never much good at entertaining herself without specific tasks and jobs to do, had found herself getting quite bored, quite quickly. So, on a lovely, if somewhat brisk, clear morning, she had set out on the three-hour flight to Cackle’s Academy for a surprise visit to Hecate, who was still in the midst of getting her students through the winter term’s exams.

And as tended to be happen, she had made an entrance that had gone singularly unappreciated.

It was an unfair move on her part, really. No matter how many years had passed since her own youth, some of the more basic aspects of playground rules never changed, and ‘never attack from behind’ would always be a cardinal sin worthy of any retribution the victim saw fit to dole out. And Pippa was quite certain that Hecate would exact a more than equal revenge.

She had to admit, however, that it was quite satisfying. The way the snow crunched as it compacted in her mittened hands. The thrill of releasing the snowball, watching it soar through the air in a perfect arc. The way it hit the collar of Hecate’s wool coat right on the back of her neck and exploded on impact, sending a spray of flakes down her back. The way she just failed at forcing down an involuntary shudder as she whirled around, prepared to put an immediate and forceful stop to whatever reckless frivolity had led to this unfortunate and regrettable situation.

Pippa watched as Hecate frowned, glancing around in mild confusion when she found neither a shame-faced student, nor one of her colleagues, playing an ill-advised prank. When what she found instead, was Pippa, and the shameless, cheeky grin she could feel spreading across her increasingly pink cheeks.

“Now, Hiccup,” Pippa said sweetly, backing away ever so slightly as Hecate glowered at her, “you cannot  _ possibly  _ be so cross about a harmless prank. That would be most unreasonable of you.”

Hecate’s scowl intensified, one gloved hand reached up slowly -- almost menacingly, Pippa thought -- and the remnants of the snowball melted off the grey wool of her coat. And when Hecate advanced upon her, Pippa couldn’t help taking a small step back. 

“That,” Hecate glowered, “was  _ cold _ .”

“Well, yes, Hiccup,” Pippa said reasonably. “Snow is generally known for being quite cold. What with being the frozen form of--”

“I am  _ aware _ of the fact that snow is cold, Pippa, as well as why. What I am  _ not  _ aware of, is why you felt the need to remind me of that in such a… percussive manner.” Hecate was upon her now, and through what, up close, Pippa could see clearly was genuine irritation, was the barest hint of amusement. “Especially,” she added, “given that I am  _ quite _ certain you can recall how much I absolutely  _ hate  _ the cold.”

Pippa certainly did recall. It would have been nearly impossible for her to forget Hecate’s intense, bordering on irrational hatred of anything cold, from windy days to iced water. But snow was the worst offender by far. “I don’t suppose that any excuse containing the words  _ fun  _ or  _ whimsy  _ or  _ nostalgia _ would do me any good at this interval?” Pippa was well aware that, if anything, she was digging herself ever-deeper into whatever hole she had found herself in. And, given the increasing mirth present in Hecate’s expression, she was truly uncertain exactly what that hole was.

“Certainly not.”

Hecate had a wicked glint in her eyes, and it was making Pippa quite nervous. She felt Hecate’s magic flaring up, flowing off her in waves, surrounding her, until--

The snowballs hit her in three consecutive bursts, perfectly spaced such that Pippa had just managed to recover from one, when the next hit. The first hit at the base of Pippa’s spine, and failed to seep in through the many layers of fabric there; the second, between her shoulder blades, pinpricks of cold catching her ears as it exploded. Pippa knew, well before the third snowball hit, that it was coming. She could feel the ebb and flow of Hecate’s magic like it was her own, and it was almost comforting. Right up until the final, largest snowball hit the back of her neck, precisely in the spot between where her scarf ended and her ponytail began. 

Pippa was still sputtering, still trying to regain her equilibrium when long fingers gloved in black leather reached out, grasped her hand, and transferred them both into her sitting room. T hey landed, tiny globs of ice working their way down her shoulders, her neck, her spine. “Bloody  _ hell _ , Hecate,” she began, but Hecate held up a hand to cut her off.

“Now, Pippa,” Hecate said, take a step toward Pippa’s shivering form, voice almost impassive. “you cannot  _ possibly  _ be so cross about a harmless prank. That would be most unreasonable of you.”

Pippa swallowed down a rather tetchy retort; swallowed down the urge to point out that one snowball was not three, and that she wasn’t the one who brought magic to a snowball fight; swallowed down quite how appealing she found the glint in Hecate’s eyes, the knowing smugness in her voice. “Of course not,” she said, desperately hoping that Hecate wouldn’t hear the slight crack in her voice, knowing that she would. “Who would be so unreasonable as to be upset over a little bit of snow?” She took one tentative step backward as Hecate moved toward her.

“Who, indeed?” Hecate’s tone was almost predatory now as she advanced on Pippa, her eyes darkening to a deep, almost-black. “Perhaps,” she suggested, “someone who is known to detest the cold and the snow? Someone with a long and well-documented history of such a distaste might be… a bit put out, shall we say, if someone who, by all accounts should know  _ far _ better, were to act in such an ill-advised manner?”

“Perhaps, I suppose, that person might be…  _ somewhat  _ justified,” Pippa conceded. Hecate was upon her now, looming over her, using the few inches of height she had on Pippa to their fullest effect. Another step, and Pippa felt her back hit the cold stone wall. She swallowed, hard, as Hecate pinned her to the wall, one arm resting casually, far too casually for Pippa’s comfort, against the wall. She used the other to reach up, and long, slender fingers reached up and vanished Pippa’s cloak, her hat, the clip that had held her hair back in the wind. The same fingers wound their way into her hair as it fell in loose waves around her shoulders, clenched into a fist, and tugged, just hard enough to hurt. Hard enough to make Pippa gasp involuntarily.

“Hecate--” it was all Pippa could force out, all she could think of to say in the moment. Though perhaps she was glad for it, because Hecate’s smile turned wicked, heady and dark and enticing.

“Yes, Pippa?” Hecate’s voice was even, but the dangerous undercurrent was still there. “You had something to say?”

It was a warning, not an offer, and Pippa shook her head mutely.

“Excellent.” One of Hecate’s hands was still in her hair, still grasping it just hard enough to exert pressure, but no longer pulling. Hecate relaxed her posture somewhat, eased off the wall, but moved in closer. So close that Pippa could feel the sharp press Hecate’s hips against hers, the softness of her breasts. Pippa felt her thighs clench together involuntarily, felt warmth pooling between her legs, felt blood rushing up her neck and into her cheeks. With her free hand, Hecate dragged one dark, perfectly manicured fingernail across Pippa’s cheek, bringing it to rest on her lips in a shushing motion.

“Now,” Hecate asked lazily, almost carelessly. “What do you think would be an appropriate way to… discipline someone, for such an indiscretion?” She moved her finger from Pippa’s lips, giving her a chance to respond.

Pippa squirmed, shifted slightly so she could look Hecate in the eye. “I don’t know, Hiccup,” she said sweetly, pressing as much wide-eyed innocence into her voice as she could. “It was, after all, just a bit of snow. Surely mercy is in order?”

“Mercy,” Hecate murmured, thoughtfully. “Indeed.” She gave Pippa a look that Pippa couldn’t quite decipher, one that made her wonder, briefly, if this time, perhaps she had bitten off more than she could chew. Then, with the wickedest, most imperious smile Pippa had ever seen, Hecate leaned in, nibbled gently on Pippa’s earlobe, and whispered, breath hot and warm in Pippa’s ear, “Then you punishment shall be to sit and wait patiently for me, while I finish marking my third years’ exams.”

And just like that, Hecate vanished, transferring no doubt back to her study, or her office, or wherever it was that she planned to finish her work. As Pippa stood there, rooted in spot and still trying to steady her breathing back to its normal rhythm, she couldn't help but feel that nothing about this was fair, at all.

**Author's Note:**

> Join me on Tumblr @ thebestdressedrebelinhistory


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